Home Away From Home

October’s road trip found me once again right in the center of Colorado at one of my favorite spots in the West—the Buffalo Peaks Ranch, home to the Rocky Mountain Land Library.

As in 2019, I camped at the ranch in the cold, thin air; this time, pitching my tent next to the Middle Fork South Platte River, just below the beaver dam…

My favorite part of any photo taken at the ranch is the long, flowing beauty of Reinecker Ridge, glowing here in the last rays of the day’s sunshine; black cows in the distance, grazing at the base of the ridge…

Valley in the morning light…

Cows beneath a passing cloud…

(Kodak Plus-X 125 35mm film)

 

The ridge makes an imposing backdrop for the distant barns…

(Kodak Plus-X 125 35mm film)

 

Beautifully aged wood…

(Kodak Ektar 100 35mm film)

 

The last few tufts of October’s green grass…

(Kodak Ektar 100 35mm film)

 

Old treasure glowing in the sun…

(Kodak Ektar 100 35mm film)

 

More interesting artifacts, found by Ann…

Ann and Jeff, the dreamers who have worked so hard for many years to bring the Land Library to life. It was so nice to see them once again, and to spend my last few hours in South Park talking about the past and the future of the Buffalo Peaks Ranch…

Hey, it’s a library, so I took some time out to read on the front porch…

(The book? Flatland.)

You can read about the Rocky Mountain Land Library, get involved and show your support, all through this link. And check out the thousands of wonderful titles on the library’s shelves by viewing the many RMLL posts on Instagram.

 

The Ecstasy of Gold

(…addendum to last month’s post,Soundtrack“)

Composer John Zorn penned a tribute in The New York Times this week to the great Ennio Morricone, who passed away on Monday at the age of 91. Here is Zorn’s opening paragraph:

Ennio Morricone was more than one of the world’s great soundtrack composers—he was one of the world’s great composers, period. For me, his work stands with Bach, Mozart, Debussy, Ellington and Stravinsky in achieving that rare fusion of heart and mind. Dare we compare the five notes of his famous “coyote call” in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly with the four opening notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony? Morricone’s music is just as timeless.

I certainly agree. And those of you who know me understand that I am far from qualified to offer appraisals of orchestral music, which comprises a very tiny portion of my library. Nor am I any kind of an expert on film, having watched far fewer movies in my lifetime than the average citizen. But I do know what works for me.

I’ve always found the Westerns of Sergio Leone to be quite absorbing…in a manner that I have not experienced with other films. I believe that Morricone’s soundtrack is the magical ingredient responsible. Leone’s visuals are striking, and their marriage with the Maestro’s music creates a chemistry that draws my full attention to the screen. There are moments in these films that hold me in a transfixed state—not with tension, but with something more akin to awe and reverence.

Whether or not the Western film genre is to your liking, you may still appreciate the beauty and the power of Morricone’s music, and I encourage you to enjoy the samples of his work that can be found online. Here are two of my favorites to get you started…

“The Ecstasy of Gold” from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, conducted here by Morricone, and featuring vocalist Susanna Rigacci:

Click above to hear “The Ecstasy of Gold” (YouTube video)

And the title theme to A Fistful of Dollars, performed by The Danish National Symphony Orchestra:

Click above to hear “A Fistful of Dollars” (YouTube video)

Morricone had a unique ability to bring drama and fire to a scene, along with that haunting beauty which makes his compositions so very special. Wanderers of the desert and the plains could hope for no better composer to score the desolate majesty that surrounds them. Farewell, Maestro.

Valley Abstract

All of the digital infrared images taken during my first visit to the Buffalo Peaks Ranch have now been posted. Two years after that trip, I returned to the ranch with an assortment of long-expired rolls of 35mm film, just to see what they would do. One of those rolls—Kodak Infrared film—was as old as my car.

I wasn’t expecting much from the IR experiment, but the results were ghostly and surreal, with strange artifacts and black skies; looked as though the photos had been taken during the night. Only a few of the frames contained anything resembling a photograph. Here, you can barely make out the shadowy figure of Sarah (right below the sun) heading up the trail to the South Platte River.

South Park, Colorado
Kodak Infrared film (expired 1971)